Change The Past

That day, I discovered the woman that was supposed to be my mother was an insane driver when she was angry. She swerved around corners, cursed loudly at other drivers, with me in the passenger seat, praying for my life, or at least Sam’s body while I was still in it.

If Sam died, would I die? Or would I just be sent back? What would happen to Sam? I tried to stop thinking of it - hopefully I would never find out the answers.

We stopped in the driveway with a sudden jerk, sending me forward and giving me whiplash.

Sam’s mom yanked the keys out of the car, ripped off her seatbelt, and just sat there, fuming and staring at the garage door.

After a couple minutes of sitting in the driveway while I played with my tongue and rolled my eyes at myself in the side-view mirror, she jerked sideways in her seat, facing me. I stared back, slightly frightened.

“How could you do it,” She whispered, sounding like she had just been shot with a AK45.

“What?” I asked, not really caring what she said. I was used to being yelled at. The only thing weird was that it was a different mom.

She scrunched her face up and spoke louder, “Why?! And for cursing - when do you curse?!”

Her eyes were glazed over, as if she was talking to herself, and then she slowly turned to face forward again, quickly slumping against the seat. The woman who was supposed to care about me finally spoke again, her eyes locked on the garage door and her voice solemn and somewhat antsy.

“It was Mike, wasn’t it? You’ve been listening to his music.”

I grinned loudly; fully aware that I did listen to his music. I found it extremely funny that she blamed it on him. He probably got blamed for every time Sam did something wrong, like knock over a glass of orange juice, get a B on a report card, or lose the remote.

But this could change. I wouldn’t be a shitty sister; he wasn’t going to be a scapegoat for what I got myself into.

“No. You know I don’t listen to his music, mom.” That was a lie; an utter, complete lie.

She sighed and shook her head.

“Gosh, that was a horrible thing to say,” she said as she looked over at me, her smile sort of twisting into an apologetic one. Sam probably never got in trouble, and this woman was acting like she had no idea what to do or say.

“Listen,” She began, taking my hand, “I know you probably did this because you wanted attention. And I know that I haven’t been a good mother lately with me not being around but…” she paused, “but I love you, and I want you to know that.”

“You never do stuff like this, so I really have no idea what’s gotten into you, but I’m grounding you for a month. Got it?” Her voice was sweet, as if she really didn’t want to do this, and I sincerely felt sorry for her. Dealing with Mike must put her in physical pain.

Smiling, I nodded; one month was a breeze. “Got it.”

I was the first one to walk into the kitchen, mother right behind me.

As soon as my eyes took in who was in the room, I stopped dead in my tracks and my jaw unhinged itself from my face.

There was Billie Joe, sitting on the counter.

Mike was across from him, his finger in a jar of peanut butter. Both of the boys looked stunned and really guilty, as if they were just caught doing something bad.

Mike’s mom paid no notice to their faces as she briskly walked in, curving around my zombie corpse, and plopped her purse on the counter.

“Mike, you’re grounded for a week for skipping school,” She said while looking in her purse, sighing as if this happened all the time, “And Billie, you should know better.”

She looked up and smiled at me as if my own grounding never happened and went to a room behind the kitchen, leaving me with my step brother and his best friend, feeling extremely nervous.

Billie Joe stayed on the counter, eyeing me, making me feel like somehow he knew I wasn’t Sam. Mike stood up straight, putting the peanut butter down. He still had his finger in his mouth when he started talking.

“Why are you home? Forgot your essay?”

I opened my mouth to make a snarky remark right when our mom walked in, checking her watch. She never took her eyes off of it as she spoke.

“Mike, I’m leaving. I’ll be back Tuesday. Your sister is not to leave this house while I’m gone; she’s suspended until next Friday.”

I smirked at the way she said it, like it was just a run-of-the-mill thing to say - as if she didn’t even want to comprehend that her star-child had just broken the handbook.

Billie laughed loudly, and Mike started choking on his peanut butter.

“What?” He gasped and pointed at me while obviously trying to suppress a laugh of disbelief, “She got suspended?”

Our mother nodded. “Yes, for swearing and talking back to one of the most notable teachers at her school.” She paused, giving Mike and me a kiss on the cheek, a pat on the knee for Billie.

“Bye sweeties. Behave.” And with that, she was out the door faster than I could blink.

I hadn’t even met Sam’s dad yet, but I already knew both of her parents were shitty.

That was probably why Mike skipped school and Sam was at school her whole life, they were just two different ways to ignore what was going on at home. I didn’t have a clue what was really going on, but I hoped I could find out, hoping that maybe I could help.

Maybe I had a reason to be here.

I glanced over my shoulders to make sure the coast was clear, and looked back at Mike and Bill, chuckling. “Notable teacher, my ass.”

“What? Ass? You said ass!”

Pointing at me, Mike continued, smiling like a goof, “You said a bad word. I’m…I’m going to go write this down.”

He flew out of the room, leaving me with my eyebrow cocked standing next to Billie, who slid off the counter smoothly like a black panther.

It was silent for a minute while he just stared at me and I avoided his gaze the best I could. I never thought Billie Joe Armstrong would make me this nervous, let alone I would meet him this way.

Billie suddenly poked me in the stomach, taking me by surprise. “When the hell did this happen, ‘mantha?” His face looked sincere, but completely amused.

I grinned, wanting to know how much Billie teased Sam, knowing it was probably a lot.

I also knew that she probably didn’t like it, her being sent from God and all, but I’m sure he enjoyed berating her with sexual innuendos and bad words. It was probably a daily thing for him every time he came over to the house; jam with Mike, tease his sister.

I shrugged, deciding to tell the truth. “I dunno - when I woke up?” Billie, taking it as a joke, nodded like Einstein and rubbed his chin like what I said was the secret to life.

“How interesting. Now,” He began, glancing around the room, checking to see no one was there. He leaned in closer, and whispered, “Tell me why you really got suspended, sugar. Letting a little kid cheat off of you? Protesting sex? Burning the dirty pictures in the health book?”

He smirked in a way that let me know he was playing, but I knew that secretly he was serious. I blinked back shock.

Was this what was expected of Sam? How sad. I made my eyes real big and glanced shyly around the room, biting the inside of my lip, making it seem like I was carrying the biggest secret.

I leaned in closer, and whispered just like he did, “I got suspended because I called the teacher a fat whore.”

Leaning back, a glorious smirk on my face, I waited as he stayed still, elbow propped up against the counter, making the most confused expression.

He smiled abruptly. “Really?”

I nodded, and patted him on the shoulder. “Really.”

“Wow. I never would have guessed,” Billie said as he stood up straight again and looked me straight in the eye, shaking his head and laughing. Then he stopped moving and just stared.

“Hey, are you wearing makeup?” His fingers grabbed my chin to keep my face steady; and as his face moved in closer to inspect, my heart fluttered wildly.

I started to respond, hand flying up to my face, but just like the mom, Mike came flying back into the room at the wrong time, wagging a finger at me while laughing.

Billie dropped his hand quickly.

“It’s amazing what Thursdays will do to people.” He swatted at Billie’s shoulder. “Ya ready to go?”

Billie nodded, and they both started towards the door. As they made their way out, Billie turned around and walked backwards, pointing at me. “You be good, kid, alright? Have fun being grounded.”

I smiled, and stood there until the door slammed and I heard the car engine fade away down the street.

The only sound that filled the room was the deep sigh that escaped my lungs. I wanted, I needed to enjoy this while it lasted, until I could find a way out of this.

But Sam was too smooth at the edges. It was suffocating me.

I needed drastic changes.

With the house to myself, I made my ways upstairs to my room, but not before I snooped around Mike’s room like a groupie and stole a couple of his records.

Earlier, I had found some Sunny and Cher records in Sam’s room, which would have done me no good unless I needed some hard surface to work upon. I accidentally broke them anyways in my angst session earlier, so who cares?

Back in my room, I lay in bed, listening to Mike’s Black Sabbath album, and when I turned over, something caught my eye in the closet.

What I saw was a black bag that looked remotely similar to the bag I owned back home.

It was the bag I was wearing when I heard the big bang.

“Could it have traveled with me?” I thought, sliding off the bed and approaching the closet like I preying lion. Like I was scared it was going to bite me, I snatched it quick and dumped its contents onto my bed in a rush.

My ipod, my drawings, my books, my everything. It was my fucking bag, my salvation.

I screamed towards the ceiling, “GOD BLESS YOU, HOBO MAN!” and snatched the scissors, my lighter, my needle and my piercings. I heated the needle up with my lighter.

This was the change I needed.

I had pierced my eyebrow and my septum before, so why not now? I don’t think Sam’s mom would be that mad - she would probably think they were fake. Beyond her mother, I didn’t consider anyone else and what they might think.

With a little bit of pain and a little bit of blood, I went onto the scissors. I cut Sam’s annoying hair to about my ear, making sure it was the least 80’s style it could get. No poof for me.

In the next few hours, I did surgery on every single item of clothing - sewing the pants to at least six inches below my bellybutton and throwing out all pastels. I kept the jean jacket and the tank tops, ending up with a surprisingly large wardrobe.

The best part was when I found a dirty pair of shoes thrown in the back corner of the closet, only to discover they were a pair of beautiful, grimy Converse. In a box, I found some combat boots too, probably owned by Sam’s stepfather.

The underwear was still grandma-ish though, so I made a note to change it later as I stood up and smoothed out my new hair.

In the mirror, I looked at the girl’s new look: new hair, hardware, clothes and makeup.

“How delightful”, I thought as I waved at the mirror, enjoying for the first time how the person waved back.

“Hello Sam.”